


Bathtime

by ImpossibleClair



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Ghosts, Lockwood & Co. BigBang project, Oneshot, Wraith, lucy has to be inventive to fight a ghost, my tagging still sucks, unconventional ghost fighting techniques
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpossibleClair/pseuds/ImpossibleClair
Summary: Disarmed, cornered and without backup, Lucy faces a wraith in a bathroom with only her wits and a collection of bath materials to defend herself.





	Bathtime

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as my contribution to the Lockwood&Co. BigBang project being run over on Tumblr (link). I've had the idea for the story for quite a while, so I'm glad I got an opportunity to write it.

I backed up across the shining white tiles, my eyes sweeping the room.  


A sink on my right, shelves and towel rack on my left. In front of me, a particularly insistent wraith. This one had a ‘freshly dead’ kind of look – recognisably human, but none too pretty to look at. The skin was puckered with burns and rot, the clothes torn and stained with soot. It was one of about a dozen ghosts that had manifested in the house that night, victims of an air raid bombing back during the war.  


This one had decided I was its playmate tonight.  


I like to think I’m always prepared, but at this precise moment I was completely defenceless. My rapier was somewhere on the staircase, lost when I’d tripped while fleeing my deceased companion. My salt and iron had been spent. The chains were all downstairs with Lockwood and George.  


I was – to put it simply – screwed.  


My heel hit something and I nearly fell backwards. I risked a glance over my shoulder. A bathtub. I had literally nowhere else to go, so I hooked my leg over the side and scrambled in.  


Reassessing my position, I realised I’d made a mistake.  


The wraith had drifted halfway across the room now. It was making displeased grumbling noises at me, eyeing me with a cold glare. I looked around desperately for anything I could use.  


There was a showerhead mounted on the wall, one of those fancy ultra-modern ones on a flexible hose. I wrenched the showerhead from its mounting and swiftly turned the tap beneath it. A jet of icy water blasted down my front. Spitting water, I turned the stream on the ghost. The wraith shuddered, paused in its lurching advance; like all spirits, it disliked running water. But even as relief swept over me, the ghost began to press forward again. The stream from the showerhead was too broken, a strong sprinkle rather than a steady stream.  


Cursing, I used my free hand to rummage through the clutter on the edge of the tub; candles, cotton buds, sponges, bath bombs… I paused. The idea turned in my mind. Would it work? A bitter chill washing up my arm told me I had no choice but to try it.  


I snatched up one of the pink orbs and lobbed it hard onto the floor. It shattered at the wraith’s feet, spraying grains of pink Epsom salts in all directions, burning green where they came into contact with the ghost. There was a spectral sigh as the apparition vanished and began to reform in the doorway.  


Despite the limited success, I let out a whoop of triumph. Abandoning the showerhead and snatching up the basket of bath bombs, I leapt out of the tub –  


– only to slip and fall spectacularly on the tiles, which were slick with water.  


I knocked into a shelf, tried to grasp it and missed. My left side hit the floor sickeningly hard and the basket was jolted from my hands. The bath bombs were flung free and rolled chaotically across the floor. Bottles and hairbrushes rained down around me.  


“Bloody hell,” I growled, getting to my hands and knees.  


A chill cut through my wet clothes, and I looked up. The wraith was hovering above me. It was so close that I could see where its jaw had come unhinged on one side. Ghost-lock was beginning to seize my limbs. I needed to do something, quickly. That’s when I noticed the purple bottle.  


I dove for it, snatching it up and popping open the lid. I aimed it at the wraith and squeezed hard. With a sound like a poorly executed raspberry, a squirt of viscous purple liquid shot from the bottle. The instant it speared the ectoplasm, the wraith twisted and vanished.  


I watched the doorway, but there was no sign of the apparition reforming.  


I stood, grinning, and blew over the nozzle of the bottle as if it were a smoking gun.  


Bath bombs and lavender shower gel.  


Lockwood and George weren’t going to believe this.

**Author's Note:**

> For trivia purposes, I came up with the idea for this one while looking at a bag of bath salt. That's it, that was my inspiration. I just wondered if the gang ever had to face ghosts in a bathroom type environment and if they'd use the 'weapons' on hand. I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Happy reading!


End file.
